Sanctuary
by MoonGirl1155
Summary: Jack yearns for freedom, but his fear of his master prevents him from venturing outside of the cathedral. Pitch claims that the world will loathe him for his snowflake scars, white hair, and ice conjuring abilities. But one day he enters the real world and meets a beautiful gypsy, Toothiana, who makes him wonder if he really is a monster after all.


**A/N: This story is going to be a _RotG_ parody of _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ with a few twists. I hope you enjoy this fanfic! Please read, review, favorite, and follow! Thanks!**

* * *

><p><span><strong>CAST LIST<strong>

**-Jack Frost as Quasimodo **

**-Toothiana as Esmeralda **

**-E. Aster Bunnymund as ****Phoebus **

**-Pitch as Frollo**

**-North as The Bishop**

**-Sandy as The Gargoyle**

**-Katherine* as Jack's Mother**

**-Nightlight* as Jack's Father**

* * *

><p>"Shut that thing up, will you?" the boatman spat, and Katherine clutched her baby closer to her chest. A shiver rolled down her spine as the infant's tiny fists came in contact with her skin. Her temperature dropped and she pulled his hand away, tucking it snugly into the swaddling. She loved him...but she didn't want to get frostbite. Her son's weeping started up again and the boatman growled.<p>

"If you don't keep it quiet, we're going get caught!" he warned, and Katherine nodded. She would have to endure. The baby calmed down as soon as he was allowed to touch her. He pressed his palm against his mother's neck and cooed. Goosebumps crawled across her skin and she glanced nervously at her husband. Nightlight gave her a concerned look but didn't speak; he simply continued to row.

The rickety boat floated down the foggy river; the moon obscured from view. They travelled down the Seine into the heart of Paris. The capital of France was a dangerous place; Gypsies were being prosecuted in the city, but they had nowhere else to go. How were they supposed to make money? Nightlight was a talented magician while Katherine was a gifted storyteller...it was impossible to attract large enough crowds in the countryside. So, Paris was the only option, and a risky one at that.

Time passed and soon they were docking. Nightlight grasped her waist and helped her out of the boat. She smiled gratefully.

"Ten francs for a safe passage into Paris," the boatman's outstretched hand was demanding payment. Nightlight internally groaned; ten francs was more money than they could afford to spend. He would have to find a place to spend the night, and now that they had a baby, more food would have to be purchased. But he had no choice in the matter, and he dropped the coins into the boatman's hands. The man gave him a toothy grin, then cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered.

"Over here! They're over here!"

Nightlight's eyes widened and Katherine clutched his hand. He spun around and was about to break out into a run, but his path was blocked by soldiers. In seconds they were surrounded by warriors with pointed spears. He adjusted his position so he was in a fighting stance, keeping his wife close to him. He wasn't going to allow anything to happen to her or their child.

"See? I told you they would be here," the boatman gloated at his handiwork in deception and Nightlight glowered at the rat. He would have punched him in the face by now if they weren't encircled by a ring of soldiers. He began analyzing the situation and scanned the crowd of militants, searching for a weak spot...

A loud whinny roused Nightlight from his planning and he lifted his head as a figure emerged from the fog.

A tall man, clad in black, was perched upon an onyx horse and he looked mightily pleased with himself. His golden eyes narrowed upon seeing the two gypsies and his lips curled in disgust.

Nightlight visibly stiffened and Katherine took his hand. He knew this man, this monster. Kozmotis Pitchiner: a military dictator who was dead set on imprisoning every gypsy in France. He had crossed paths with the Nightmare King on several occasions and nearly died each time. Others weren't so lucky. Ombric, Katherine's adoptive father, was one of the many who was perished under the hand of Pitch...

Nightlight didn't speak, but his pale blue eyes radiated anger. This demonic man had caused so much suffering to all of his people, had slaughtered and captured so many...if anyone deserved to burn in the depths of hell, it was him.

"Well, look at what we have here..." the Nightmare King smirked down at him with contempt. Nightlight was one of the few gypsies ever to have escaped from Pitch's clutches, which put him near the top of his hit list. The smug expression on the dark man's face displayed his satisfaction with finally ensnaring the magician.

There was a moment of silence, almost as if Pitch were waiting for him to respond. Nightlight didn't speak. He wasn't going to waste his words on the scoundrel.

"So nice of you to join us, I daresay I have missed you..." he grinned in amusement, his silken voice taunting. Nightlight angrily ground his teeth together and shot daggers out of his diamond eyes.

"We haven't missed you," Katherine spat, voicing her nasty opinion instead of her husband. The Nightmare King was despicable; she knew that from personal experience. He had murdered her entire family when she was only a young girl...and then killed her adoptive father, Ombric. The man lacked mercy or remorse...and Katherine wasn't sure whether she should be more furious or afraid.

Pitch turned his gaze onto her and scowled, "_Chienne!_"

Katherine decided rage was going to be her prime emotion. She was about to shout some obscenities at the man but her husband grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly in warning. She kept her mouth shut. They both knew what Pitch was capable of and agitating him would be a poor choice...a deadly choice.

But it was too late.

"Arrest them!" he commanded and the soldiers began to close in. Nightlight tensed, waiting for the correct moment to strike. An armored hand grabbed his wife's arm and that was when he sprang into action. He wrenched a spear out of a shocked militant's hand and stabbed the man who had seized Katherine. Nightlight attacked two other soldiers before they snapped out of their surprise and charged.

Katherine tried her best to assist in the assault, but it was difficult to fight while clutching a newborn to her chest. Her husband seemed to sense this and shot her a meaningful glance. She didn't want to leave him, but perhaps she could lead some of the warriors away...giving him a fair chance.

Katherine tore herself away from his pale blue eyes and took off into a sprint.

She made it halfway down the block before she glanced behind her, one last time, just as Pitch impaled Nightlight in the chest.

She screamed.

She could see the blood gushing out of the gaping hole in his torso, staining his white shirt a nauseating red. She halted in her tracks, her entire body trembling in shock. Nightlight collapsed in an unmoving heap onto the cobblestones...the maroon continued to leak out of his body like spilt wine...and she refused to accept what was happening. He wasn't...no. Her husband wasn't dead.

But even from fifty meters away, Katherine could see the blankness in his eyes...completely empty of all life.

Cruel, unforgiving laughter pierced through her horrified trance and she looked up at the Nightmare King. He had murdered her husband.

Her wide, fearful eyes locked onto his and she realized she was next.

She ran.

Katherine bolted towards the nearest alleyway, hoping that Pitch wouldn't be able to follow her down the narrow path. She could hear the thunderous hooves of his nightmare stallion as he rode after her in pursuit, and a fresh batch of fear poisoned her veins. She curved sharply and almost tripped over her own feet. She continued down the tight ally but she wasn't free yet. She could still hear the Nightmare King chasing after her, and he was getting closer. Katherine sped up, if possible, and hugged her baby to her chest. He wasn't crying, for some strange reason, but she suspected that had to do with the fact that her neck was coated in frost.

Pitch was gaining on her and she knew she was almost done for. She rounded a corner and was blocked by a metal gate. The Nightmare King was close behind as she hastily climbed over the fence, careful of the baby, and then continued running when she reached the other side. She snuck a peek over her shoulder and saw that Pitch was unable to follow her on horseback and turned around to find a different route.

Katherine almost grinned in spite of herself, but she knew the hunt wasn't over yet. She pressed on, dashing through the streets until her legs felt like lead. She needed somewhere to hide, but where would she go? She reached the end of the intricate network of alleyways and found herself in a foggy courtyard. Towering above her was the magnificent cathedral of Notre Dame.

Katherine began to debate her options, but her time was cut short by the sound of a galloping horse. The Nightmare King had caught up. She raced across the square at top speed, jumping up the steps and nearly crashing into the large wooden doors of the church. Frantically, she pounded her fist against the barrier. He was going to kill her….her was going to kill her…

"Sanctuary! _Sanctuary_! Please let me in!" Katherine shrieked, desperation leaking into her voice as she hurled herself at the door. She screamed again and twisted around to see Pitch charging at her. The door wasn't going to open. She took off in the opposite direction but it was too late. She hugged her baby tightly, shielding him with her body as she was rammed by the horse. She crashed onto the steps and bashed her head in.

Before Katherine could formulate another thought, she was dead.

* * *

><p>Kozmotis Pitchiner smirked upon seeing the dead gypsy woman. Death served her right for trying to escape from him. She would be better off dead, happier even, since she would join her husband in hell. A stream of satisfaction flowed through him—soon enough all gypsies would return to the hell from which they were birthed.<p>

A soft sniffling could be heard and he raised his eyebrows in confusion. The woman was certainly dead…there was no way…unless…

Pitch leaned down and stole the bundle of rags from the wench's arms, and discovered that there was a newborn wrapped inside them. A gypsy infant…which was disgusting enough, but the baby had a face covered in scars…

"Repulsive," he snarled, and searched for a way to dispose of the hideous creature. There was a well near the steps of the church and marched over towards it, prepared to drown the monstrosity.

"_Stop_!" a voice called out and he halted midstride, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He slowly turned to find Nicholas St. North. North was an irking, do-gooder bishop who was always spoiling his fun. The clergyman rushed to his side and yanked the newborn out of his arms.

"You cannot murder this child!" he cried indignantly, and Pitch scowled. He could do as he pleased, and this mere man wasn't about to stop him from ridding the world of gypsy offspring. North finally realized that there was a corpse at the door of the church and gasped, crouching down to examine the deceased woman.

"You took a life on the steps of the church! The Moon Saints will frown upon you!" North bellowed, clearly angry. Pitch scowled. He could care less about the Man in the Moon or his accursed Saints.

"The Moon's opinion of me is of little importance," he scoffed. North narrowed his eyes.

"Well, you would do well to fear his wrath. He will make you suffer for disregarding the rules of sanctuary!" the bishop declared, and Pitch contemplated this. He knew gypsies didn't worship the Man in the Moon…but the laws of sanctuary still applied to them. Pitch gazed up at the church and the stone carvings of the saints, who frowned upon him. His mouth ran dry. He wasn't a pious man, in fact, he _despised_ the Moon. But he wasn't a fool, and the last thing he wanted to do was summon unwanted attention from the deity.

"Tell me…what must I do?" Pitch questioned, his voice tight. North rose to his feet and outstretched his arms, holding out the infant.

"Raise the child as your own," the clergyman answered simply, as if the solution was obvious. The Nightmare King sputtered in surprise, "What? It's a _monster_."

"The boy is the only way to save yourself from the Moon's rage," North warned, gesturing for the man to remove the child from his arms. Pitch reluctantly held the infant and frowned upon it.

"Very well…perhaps he will prove useful to me in the future," he muttered to himself. He averted his eyes from the revolting creature and glared at the bishop.

"However, he will remain in the cathedral…the world doesn't need to know of this monster," Pitch stated. North nodded his head in agreement and they took the infant inside the walls of Notre Dame to be stored away. They discussed the arrangements for where the boy would live and when Pitch would begin to 'raise' him. The Nightmare King wanted nothing to do with a baby and refused to see him again until he was capable of fluent speech.

As they ascended to the towers of the cathedral, neither man dared to mention the way ice coated everything the child touched.


End file.
